This Is War
by MakeYouNotice
Summary: One-shot songfic to This Is War by 30 Seconds to Mars. There were the warnings, little, subtle things, but there and obvious if you knew where to look. Then there were those defining moments for all mechs who were looking for a side to take. Then came the true battles and the war began in earnest.


It had started as muttering in the poorer sectors of cities and no one paid it any mind.

Then mutterings turned to meetings and protests. Soon everyone from lowly miners and drones in Kaon to the richest nobles and senators knew about it.

_This is war,_ they said.

Then, later, over secure comm. lines, _who will fight?_

0o0

Ironhide knew what was happening. He was a soldier, an old one, and had seen many wars. Too many. Too many not to see the signs, and the warnings. He also knew that the Senate wouldn.t believe it until they were held at a rebel's cannon-point and that, that very blindness would be theirs, and everyone else on the planet's downfall. Their planet and its people were on the verge of civil war and the Senate would do _nothing._

0o0

Jazz was alone, in the dark, on the mean streets of Kaon. It was a bad idea and he knew it. He was just a civilian and one who had not chosen a side, something that was even more dangerous in this divided, soon-to-be war-torn Cybertron. He was here to change that. He narrowed his optics at the heavily-guarded Decepticon base, gathered his resolve, and stepped forward.

This was war and he needed to pick a side. The winning side.

0o0

Prowl could be a bit of a martyr but this was _ridiculous_. His Enforcer programming and his own base coding dictated that he help, often putting his own frame and spark on the line. Mechs were being offlined left and right and street violence was escalating, not just in Praxus, but all over the planet.

Prowl knew that this war on the streets would go full-scale soon. He knew he needed to pick a side but his most important question to himself was, _what will I fight for?_

0o0

Bumblebee was alone and he understood that. His Creators were offline and he accepted that. He may not have completely understood it, but he did accept it.

He had heard mechs talking, saying he was a victim of _them_, though he never heard who they were.

Bumblebee understood quite a lot for one so young. He understood that his new caretakers had some deadly dangerous enemies. He understood this was war around him. He also understood he would fight. Soon

0o0

Of the first Thirteen, it was Beta Prime who had the most foresight. She was best at predicting what would happen next. She was the prophet to her brothers and almost always believed.. Except for when it counted.

After the fiasco with their fallen brother, Megatronus, one would think they had learned to believe her. But, her brothers were stubborn. She told them when they set up the council that the system would become corrupt and bring more harm than good. They didn't listen. Now, here in the Well of Sparks, they finally acknowledge her words of wisdom.

_There will be war, _she had told them. _This is war,_ they said now. But it was too late. They could do nothing.

0o0

If Soundwave were to be honest, something he realized was an impossibility in the Decepticon ranks, he was disgusted. The mechs on this side of the field were twisted and depraved. He was not an Autobot at spark and never would be, but even one as detached and high-up as he could see how ill-fated this whole endeavor was. As right as their cause was, the means were wrong. He couldn't defect now, though, not at this stage. Now, defecting meant death.

This was war and survival was top priority.

0o0

Times like this made Thundercracker wish he could lie convincingly. He was part of the Command Trine and as such bound very tightly to Skywarp and Starscream. He would follow his trine-leader anywhere but he was already regretting following Starscream _here_, to this hell, and Thundercracker could already tell that the Decepticon ranks would be hell for him. He was infinitely glad the other mech hadn't asked for his honesty, because then he would have been obligated to tell the truth.

_I don't want to fight,_ he would have said. He knew of the rebellion and understood the reasons for the war brewing but the solid truth of the matter was that he _didn't want to fight._ He had nothing to fight for.

0o0

Alpha Trion realized long ago just how corrupt the council mechs were and tried his best to curb their greed and contain them. He even succeded, for a time, until they decided they liked their seats of power and began to make laws that made sure that those sparked to the lower classes stayed there. That was their fatal mistake. Surpressing the working class had been the match needed to light the fuse. He wouldn't even warn them of the war that would soon result from their stubbornness.

This war was unstoppable. Their cause was just and he would not fight. Not for this corrupt system.

0o0

Starscream was alone, a pariah, thrown out on his thrusters by the whim of the council. All because he had lost his higher up Noble of a lab partner, Skyfire. It wasn't his fault the mech had decided that he wanted a closer look at that organic planet and yet, the council blamed him fully for it. As if he had been Skyfire's keeper and not the other way around. Those Noble council mechs were wrong, delusional and biased. This was the last straw for him.

This was finally war for him and he would join the winning side. The rebel's side. He would join Megatron and the Decepticons.

0o0

Megatron stood in the stadium, reveling in being recognized for once, not for the last mech he had killed in the gladiator pits, but for his wit. He surveyed the crowd as he stood tall, imposing, ever the victor as he began to speak, assessing just how many truly believed in him. He counted thousands that believed his words as he did, far more serious than the council would like to believe.

"We _deserve_ our freedom," he cried out passionately to the mechs in the stands around him that were hanging on to his every word. "And we _will_ make war for it!"

0o0

The newly dubbed Optimus Prime knelt in the Temple of the All Spark. He didn't understand, Why had the Matrix chosen _him_ of all mechs? He was nothing but a lowly dock worker and one who had been a friend, _brother_, to the freedom-fighter Megatron at that. He was still just soft-sparked Orion Pax under all this new armor.

_Maybe_, something whispered,_ that is why._

The new Prime did not flinch, too deep in his trance to realize that he was alone in the room, save the All Spark itself, and should not be hearing voices. Instead, he replied, _What? I do not understand._

_You are Orion Pax and that is all that needs to be understood,_ the voice replied. It was powerful and ancient and young as well, sounding like many voices speaking in perfect sync. It was familiar and missed, even though he had never heard it before. It spoke to his spark.

_But Orion Pax was nothing. I am nothing,_ he said, seeing nothing so important or extraordinary as to be made Prime.

_That is precisely why. You have insight into the lower classes, something very rare in those who rule. My children will soon need something to believe in. Someone they can trust to lead them through this intact. You will be that. _The voice paused then, seeming to gather itself and chose its words.

_They will need a Prime, someone to look up to as a messiah in this soon-to-be-war. They need you._

Orion Pax nodded in understanding and acceptence, before getting up and bowing the slightest bit to the All Spark. He turned towards the council chambers then, knowing what he had to do.

It was Optimus Prime that met them, ready to make the hard decisions that war demands.

He had a people to lead, war to win, and an old friend to meet on the battlefield.

0o0

Thundercracker shuttered his optics. He knew this was coming, knew someone would see through his carefully crafted façade and ask for the truth. He never guessed it would be Skywarp that would figure him out, though.

He looked carefully at Skywarp's unusually serious optics, trying to judge if his wingmate would turn him over as a traitor if he said what he really thought.

He wondered, though, if it could really be considered traitorous when what he was about to say was truly happening. If he said they were losing and that there was nothing for him here. Nothing to fight for.

"Well?" Skywarp said impatiently.

Thundercracker vented and opened his mouth, intent on telling the whole truth.

0o0

Starscream was furious. There he lay on the floor of the control room, hemorrhaging energon from various wounds. Again.

Megatron had beaten him for their latest failure against the Autobots. The warlord blamed him for it, saying the Seeker was scheming against him because, really, when was he not?

This time, though, he couldn't begrudge Megatron his anger. The battle was, perhaps, the biggest loss the Decepticons had suffered throughout the course of the war.

The Autobots had won at Tyger Pax and the All-Spark was gone. Because of him.

He had been too slow with the sir support and the Autobots had managed to keep the ground troops and Megatron busy long enough to open a space bridge and send the All-Spark off-world. Perhaps Starscream did deserve this particular punishement, perhaps he _had_ been purposefully too slow at assembling his troop, but that did not mean that he would take this in silence.

He saw his chance for mercy as Megatron paused, servo raised over his helm, to hit his SIC again. Starscream swallowed what was left of his pride and did what he did best. He lied.

"I live to serve you, Lord Megatron."

0o0

Ratchet sat down heavily and vented.

His shift had been hard. He had been in his med-bay for too long, refusing to go into recharge before his patients were stable.

Tyger Pax had taken its toll on all of them and none more so than Optimus Prime and Bumblebee, both of whom were in medical stasis lock at the moment. Ratchet monitored their vitals closely for a long time. They just needed to pull through the cycle.

"Come on," Ratchet murmured to his unconscious patients, "live."

0o0

Jazz knew that attacking Megatron was futile, idiotic, and downright suicidal but he wanted to give his comrades more time. They needed more time. They needed to get the All-Spark out.

As he climbed the building Megatron stood on, he could almost hear Prowl telling him what a low rate of success he had and himself telling Prowl that he was the exception. He always had been.

"You want a piece of me?" he yelled as he scaled the Decepticon leader's legs, firing off plasma rounds into his knees, trying to do as much damage as possible.

Megatron snarled and plucked Jazz from his legs and the spy knew, deep down in his spark, that this was it. He was going to die. He had made his peace with the idea long ago and if he could go out like this, fighting, protecting, he figured he had done good. He off-lined his optics and even smiled a bit as Megatron growled out, "No, I want two."

Jazz didn't even feel Megatron rip him apart.

0o0

Megatron had been dead for two years and yet the Cons _just keep coming._

And something was coming. But, really, when was something _not_ coming for them? The only difference was that tank-deep instinct that was telling Bumblebee that whatever was coming, it was going to be big. And that feeling had never lead him wrong.

Bee knew the others felt and he also knew why they were so reluctant to say anything about it. They were all so tired, so ready to let their guards down and lay down their arms. Each and every one of them were so desperate to end the war.

They wanted to, but they knew they couldn't. Just like Bumblebee, they had all learned to trust their instincts and they were all screaming one thing.

Something was coming, and it was looming bigger than ever.

0o0

They were surrounded, trapped in this little village in Egypt in the shadows of the pyramids and their own history. Decepticons were closing in on Ironhide and the rest of the Earth-bound Autobots, intent on destroying the thing they he and his bots protected.

The body of Optimus Prime, shrouded in canvas, lay in the middle of the ring on destruction their battle was creating.

Ironhide was boxed in, Cons coming from left and right. He let out a harsh vent and his scarred face plated lifted into a grim smile as his cannons warmed and reset.

If he was going down, he was going down fighting, just like his Prime. And he would be sure to take as many Decepticon punks with him as possible.

0o0

They were two titans, Optimus Prime and the Fallen, doing battle on pyramids younger than they and feeling as if it were the edge of the Earth, the edge of the universe.

Prime fought for his ancestors, his people and this little blue planet in this secluded corner of the galaxy that they had all grown fond of. The Fallen fought for the same reason he had lived for long,. He fought for revenge on his brothers and sister that were long dead and out of anger from a misplaced sense of grief and guilt. Those emotions that had fueled him for so long soon ran out of steam in the face of this young Prime and the fact that all his other reasons were long dead. He couldn't even find it in himself to attempt to block the young Prime's killing blow.

0o0

Optimus Prime stood by the destroyed pyramid and thought back to the things the first Thirteen had told him while he was 'dead'. One thing in particular echoed through his processor still.

_I have failed. I have failed to end the War,_ he had told them, too distraught to even notice the peace that flowed in the Well.

_You have failed nothing and no one. You will end it as you were destined to,_ the first of the Primes, Prima, said.

_I will end it_, he said, trying out the feel of the words. He had heard it before, of course, it was the whole reason he had been picked. But hearing it confirmed by his ancestors was something else entirely. The last Prime nodded and to the first he said, _I will bring about a brave new world._

0o0

Sideswipe grinned, showing pointed denta as he looked at the predicament he and Ironhide found themselves in. Again. He was just glad he had a name for it now.

"Whoa, little Mexican standoff we got here," he said, not caring that the Cons had no idea wht he was talking about. He didn't care and if it aggravated them, even better.

"Weapons down," Ironhide said.

"And we might let you escape with your dignity," Sideswipe finished. _Or not at all,_ he thought to himself.

The Cons, of course, didn't give up and, like always, proceeded to get their afts handed to them by the two Autobots.

"Class dismissed," Ironhide said, holstering his weapons and never once considering that this would be the last 'class' he and Sideswipe had together.

0o0

Ironhide was shocked and betrayed. Sentinel Prime had committed the highest form of treason and, best interests of Cybertron at spark or no, needed to be executed for it.

And Ironhide knew it was not for him to do himself. He also knew, even as he sent the command for his cannons to charge, that he would die here and now. And as long as he went down fighting in the service of his Prime and protecting these strange, alien, organic creatures they had all learned to call family, he was okay with death. His only regret was that he couldn't take any more punk Decepticons into the Well with him.

He heard the cannon charge behind him, felt the shot in his back and the cosmic rust begin to eat through his armor. He fell to his knees as his spinal strut failed him and turned to face the fallen Prime. "What have you done?" he forced from his failing vocal processor, his disgust at the mech he had once called commander barely heard through the crackling.

"You have been discharged from duty," Sentinel said callously, shooting the weapons specialist in the spark this time, speeding the process.

Ironhide didn't bother to contradict him. A spark like his was never 'discharged from duty'. His spark would fight and get its warrior's death. His kind always did.

0o0

Optimus once again found himself standing among the ruins of a human city and could not bring himself to celebrate. How could he when so many lifelong friends and comrades that had been with him since the beginning were gone? He may have ended the war but there were still many more battles to be fought.

He had time to grieve now and found that he desperately wished he couldn't. So much was still so raw, so new and hurtful. So much he had still not come to terms with. Sentinel's betrayal. Jazz's death. Ironhide's death. His officers and soldiers still in space, unaccounted for. He even grieved Jetfire, whom he had only know a few hours. The sheer loss of life, be it Cybertronian, human, or whatever other race their war had managed to poison. The loos of Cybertron cut him and even their sun was dying.

Then there was Megatron, and he was a whole other pile of regrets and scars, both mental and physical. He regretted the deterioration and loss of his brother bond with Megatron. He hated the way the love of power got turned their love and the power they got from it into something twisted and dark and painful. Pit, he regretted everything.

The Senate had once told Optimus that Primes had to make the hard decisions and he had understood and agreed with them, but all of this? He had _killed_ his own _brother_. Multiple times. How in the _Pit_ was that acceptable or forgivable? He couldn't even make peace with the amount of mechs he had killed on the battlefield in defense of his life, let alone the amount of times he had killed his brother.

This _is how it's supposed to end? In energon and death and scars so deep they never quite heal?_ He surveyed the ruins of Chicago again and thought, _this is the brave new world I'm supposed to lead?_

0o0

Maybe it was because of his relatively young age, but Bumblebee was among the first to accept the war's end. He was one of the first to celebrate. He was what got the others to do so as well. They mourned and celebrated and mourned again. There was too much devastation no to mourn and too many good things not to celebrate.

He did try though; try to keep them all from wallowing in their painful thoughts and war-torn memories. He tried his best to help them look toward the bright future instead of allowing their dark past to cast a shadow over the here and now.

_Don't be too sad but don't forget them either, _he tried to tell them with music and actions. He was young, true, but there was wisdom in his nonverbal words. _Live now, in this peace, as happily as you possibly can, since they aren't able to. Live so that you can meet them in the Well with a long, happy functioning behind you._

0o0

Optimus lifted another support beam into the trailor he would be towing out of the city. The Autobots were helping humans clear away the wreckage and look for bodies in the rubble. Then, hopefully, they could begin to rebuild.

They had fallen into a rhythm, he noticed, comfortable and expected and efficient. They had not forgotten, merely accepted, even forgiven in some cases.

_Perhaps_, he thought as he looked at the motley crew of bots and humans surrounding him, working in harmony, _perhaps we can build that new world._

0o0

Ratchet could hardly believe it, indeed, the more suspicious nature he had developed in the war insisted it was false. The war was over, never mind who won. There was no true prize for it, not now. With no All-Spark, all they had was a dead Cybertron and a dying race.

The victory was nothing. It rang hollow in all their audio receptors with so few left to hear it. With so few left of their race at all. Still, Ratchet couldn't help but want to rejoice. No more would his medical equipment and knowledge be used in battle for offlining mechs. Finally, he could turn himself back to what his coding and spark called for.

Finally, he could be nothing but a healer again.

0o0

Optimus Prime sat in his alt form at the lookout in Tranquility, barely believing where he was. Barely believing all that had happened in the last six years.

In a little over twelve orns he had killed his brother, lost the All-Spark, watch as his brother resurrected, died for a friend and almost-brother, met his ancestors, came back to life, battled one of said ancestors, received the Matrix of Leadership, leveled a couple cities, and ended the war. And this vorn was nowhere near done.

The sound of tires on a dirt road and a transformation behind him had him turning and transforming himself, just barely stopping battle routines in their tracks. He no longer needed to be on his guard all the time. They were no longer at war, no longer in danger and he needed to keep reminding himself of that fact.

Optimus faced Ratchet, retracting the battlemask that had automatically snapped into placed and raised an optic ridge. So far as he knew, the mech was supposed to be spending the day using his holo to volunteer at the hospital.

"Bumblebee was looking for you," Ratchet said in response to the Prime's silent question. "Apparently, someone has been asking for you since yesterday." It was then that Optimus realized his friend was holding a little grey and gold bundle, which he promptly handed over.

The cry of, "Uncle Orion!" answered any other questions he might have had as he shifted the sparkling to a more comfortable position and he automatically smiled at the sight of his little nephew.

He's all yours, Prime," Ratchet said before transforming and speeding off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake and Optimus wondering what the child had done to the mech.

Prime looked down at the little mech and was again struck by his resemblance to his creator. He smiled as the sparkling began to shift and whine, upset and irritated by the inaction of the mech holding him. He had Ironhide's temperament as well.

"Well then, Ironstrike, what would you like to do?" Prime said as he turned them both to sace the setting sun.

_This is a new world,_ he thought. _It is a new world and it is just as strong as the many mechs who died for it and the ones who continue to live on in it. The war is won and, while the battle may not be completely done, those who have lived are rebuilding. This new world will be as brave and true and just as those who laid down their lives for it._

_**Finis**_


End file.
